


Swindled Heart

by PanicFOB



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-10-27 13:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20761271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicFOB/pseuds/PanicFOB
Summary: Soulmates don’t exist, and nothing can change your mind about that.





	1. Chapter 1

Soulmates were a mythical concept, you knew that for a fact. It was something people used to explain their strange proclivities. It was how your uncle explained his obsessive interest in star patterns and astrology, saying that as soon as he met your aunt, he recognized all the constellations in the freckles on her face. It was how your best friend, Liv, justified her desire to be a botanist, telling you that when she met Jeff in college, she instantly got lost in the greenness of his eyes that reminded her of fresh foliage. It was how your father justified his incurable sweet tooth, saying that when he met your mother who had worked at a cake shop since the time she could remember, it was certainly fate. And when one of your coworkers at your mother’s bakery who was an avid reader, so much so that she went through five books each week, went on a date with a published author, she swore to you she had met her soulmate.

It was all a load of garbage. People found tiny details about a person that somehow related to their own lives, and they used it as a way to chain themselves to that person forever. Soulmates didn’t exist, and you were so glad you didn’t have any weird and obsessive interests that you’d be tempted to blame on pathetic connection to a nonexistent soulmate.

Except for the one strange hobby you did have that was kept entirely a secret from all the people in your life. Ever since you could remember, you enjoyed the art of pickpocketing. It wasn’t so much for any sort of monetary gain. You usually ended up returning the items you stole, anyway. But it was as if your fingers craved to grab hold of coins and watches and jewelry and keys. You practiced and practiced as a child, careful to never alert your parents to what you were up to, and now the fingers on your right hand were so skilled that it was as if they were a magnet for anything metal that someone might be carrying on their person.

By day, you kneaded dough and mixed batter in your mother’s shop, and by night, you lurked the streets, fingers itching to snatch something precious and metal. Sometimes, you’d take your findings home, and it would become a game to hunt down the person you’d stolen them from and return the valuable without them ever knowing it was you. Other times, you returned the items just as soon as you had taken them.

In the mornings before your shift at the bakery, you’d get coffee with Liv in the shop just next to your mother’s. You often asked her nosy things about her relationship with Jeff.

“But how do you know? Clearly, there’s not a sign across his forehead that reads Liv’s soulmate.”

She snorted. “God, I wish there was. That would be hilarious. And I told you about the eye thing.”

“Yeah, yeah. His eyes are green and you like plants. Sounds fake. What about him? How would he have any idea that you were his soulmate based on that small connection?”

“Well, it’s not only that. You sort of get a feeling too when you meet your soulmate. It just becomes clear that they’re the person you’re supposed to be with forever.”

“I think the feeling you’re referring to is horniness.”

“You know it’s not.”

“All this assuming that soulmates are even a real thing, when in actuality, you could merely be insane.”

“Y/N, far too many people describe experiencing this connection for it to be fake. Two-thirds of the world can’t all be insane.”

“Could too,” you suggested, but Liv knew you weren’t serious.

In truth, there might have been a part of you that was bitter about all the magical pairing up that was going on around you. It was infuriating how people could find stupid things like fixations on specific colors or objects or hobbies as a sign of who their soulmate might be, and the only thing you wanted to spend your time doing was stealing things from people and then returning them. You felt like there might be something seriously wrong with you and your nocturnal hobby, so you kept it quiet from even your closest friend.

On a Friday night, as you left the shop covered in flour, you decided to take your favorite detour on the way home. You liked to go down a street that was filled with bars because drunk people always had random and interesting objects in their pockets for you to get your hands on. From bottle caps to hairpins, you took it all. The value had no relevance to you, only the material of the object mattered.

As you were passing the first bar, you spotted two tall and muscular men exiting the establishment and walking down the sidewalk with their backs turned to you. You quickened your pace, eyeing the one with cropped blond hair and a brown leather jacket, knowing he was just the type to be wearing a fancy wristwatch. You slowed down once again as you drew near, and when the man’s left arm swung slightly back as he walked, you just barely grazed it with your right hand and hastily unclasped the watch that was there with your nimble fingers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A strong hand was gripped around your right wrist.

You had been caught. For the first time in your life, you had been caught, and it was terrifying. You really couldn’t afford to go to jail for this and have your entire family and friends find out about your embarrassing hobby.

“He asked you a question,” the other man said in a stern voice. He had dark hair that he wore quite long

“Why were you trying to steal my watch?” the blond one addressed you again. It was then that you noted how both of their faces seemed quite familiar, but it was dark and you couldn’t make out their eye colors or their exact features, so it was impossible to put your finger on where you had seen them before.

The blond one pulled out his wallet from the pocket of his jeans. “If you’re in need of money, I can give you all that’s in my wallet. But that watch is special to me, so I can’t let you take it.”

You frowned. It was perplexing to you that someone you had just tried to rob was being so generous. “I don’t need your money. It’s not about that.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You just like to make people unhappy or inconvenience them?” the dark-haired one accused.

“No. I always return the things I steal… eventually. It’s complicated.”

“You expect us to believe you’re a borrower rather than a thief?”

“Ease up, Buck. This isn’t an interrogation.”

“Why not? She’s confessed to committing crimes.” He ran his fingers through his long locks as he said it, and you noticed that his hands were gloved.

You clearly wouldn’t be getting anywhere with the grumpy one, so you looked back at the generous gentleman. “Look, sir, I promise I’ll never do this to anyone again if you let me go without alerting the authorities.”

The grumpy one snorted, and you were surprised he had a sense of humor. “The authorities,” he muttered in a tone of disbelief under his breath.

“Fine,” said the nice one. “I’ll forget this happened, but I better not run into you pickpocketing people ever again.”

You nodded your head in understanding, and uttered an embarrassed “Thank you.”

As you turned and quickly walked away from the two men, you heard the grumpy one say to his friend, “You’re so naïve, Stevie.”


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about that woman who had tried to steal Steve’s watch. Not in a ‘love at first sight’ way, but in more of a ‘he knew she wasn’t going to keep her promise to stop thieving, and he sort of didn’t want to let her get away with it’ kind of way. If someone had asked, he couldn’t have explained why it bothered him so. The Avengers weren’t usually in the business of taking down the likes of petty pickpockets, usually going up against far deadlier foes.

Perhaps it was that she claimed to not be doing it for the money. Bucky thought she must have an especially cruel heart to want to steal from people for the mere sake of entertainment. There was no way for her to know if the things she was taking from a person were meaningless items or if they possessed priceless sentimentality. As Steve had informed her, that watch he’d been about to take was very special; Peggy had given it to him not long before she passed away. He would have been heartbroken to discover it missing if he hadn’t caught the thief mid-act.

As for her claim that she always returned the items, that was a load of shit. There was no possible way she could perfectly remember all the faces of strangers she had stolen from in order to successfully slip their prized possessions back into their pockets. It had clearly been a quick lie to make herself seem harmless rather than a criminal.

He was currently flat on his back in the floor of his bedroom at the compound. He sort of hated the cushiony mattress that topped his bed, and so he often spent his downtime on the somewhat firmer floor that was adorned with a plush carpet. He was staring at the ceiling and repeatedly tossing a knife into the air, watching it twirl into a thousand rotations before coming back down right towards his face, and then he would snatch the handle with his metal fingers just at the last second before the tip of the blade grazed his nose.

“FRIDAY?” he called out to the empty room.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?” the Irish accented AI answered him.

“Could you possibly trace someone down for me?”

“Have they committed a crime?”

“Yes, actually.”

“What is the name?”

Bucky frowned. Why hadn’t he been smart enough to ask the woman her name the other night? “I don’t know.”

“Hmm, that makes things a little more difficult, but I still might be able to find this person for you. Male or female?”

“Female.”

“Please describe her facial features to the best of your abilities, Mr. Barnes.”

“Her hair was shoulder length and Y/H/C. Her eyes were Y/E/C. She was an average height. I remember that her clothes seemed to be covered in baking flour. Maybe search for bakery employees.”

“Where was the location that this crime was committed?”

“Well, Steve stopped her from actually doing it, but she practically confessed to stealing many times before. We ran into her outside of that bar called Mikey’s Brews.”

FRIDAY was silent for a while, and Bucky began throwing his knife again. He heard a knock at his bedroom door followed by Steve sticking his head in.

“Hey, we’ve got a mission. Be ready in ten.”

Bucky nodded at the man, and then before Steve had pulled the door back shut, FRIDAY announced to the room, “Mr. Barnes, I believe I have found the alleged female thief you were searching for.”

Steve immediately opened the door wider and fully stepped into the room. “What the hell are you up to, Buck? I thought we agreed to let the woman go and leave her be.”

“I didn’t trust her, Steve. I think she’s up to something, something bigger than pickpocketing, and I want to find out what it is. You heard her, she said she doesn’t do it for money.”

“Because she was probably embarrassed to admit to being poor and too prideful to take a handout. You’re making a big deal out of it for nothing, pal. Tell me you’ll drop it and not go giving the woman more trouble.”

Bucky had known Steve for an incredibly long time, longer than most people ever knew their closest friends, and so he knew that if he did not simply tell Steve what he wanted to hear, then the man would never let this go.

“Fine. I won’t go giving her more trouble, I promise.”

He hadn’t promised Steve not to keep a watch on her though. He’d simply make sure she wasn’t up to anything from a safe distance, and she would never even know he was there. Then, he would catch her committing some crime far worse than stealing, which he had suspected all along that she was capable of, and Steve would have to eat his own words.

As soon as they got back from that mission, and Bucky made sure that Steve had already gone to bed, he asked FRIDAY for the location of the bakery that the woman worked at. He had learned from the AI that her name was Y/F/N Y/L/N, and it seemed that the shop where she worked was owned by her mother. Another notable fact was that neither Y/N nor any of her immediate family members seemed to be in any sort of debt. Bucky took this as verification that she had not in fact been stealing the watch for monetary needs.

He snuck out of the compound and arrived across the street from the bakery about half an hour before it was set to open. The opposite side of the street from the shop was littered with newsstands and food trucks as well as multiple clothing boutiques, and Bucky thought it would be incredibly easy to remain hidden as he kept an eye on the thief.

He waited in a narrow alley until he spotted her approaching the shop, and then he casually walked over to the newsstand, his hair tucked under a ball cap, and he purchased a paper before wandering to a nearby bench and holding it just high enough to where his eyes would peak over, but nobody could see his entire face. It wasn’t the smoothest form of reconnaissance Bucky had ever done, but he didn’t want to go to any greater lengths that might alert Steve, or even worse Tony, to what he was doing.

He could see her through the large windows of the shop, pulling pastries from the kitchen and carefully placing them in a display case. She wore a smirk as she gently set down each one, and Bucky narrowed his eyes. This woman was nothing but trouble; he could feel it in his bones.


	3. Chapter 3

If you didn’t steal something soon, you might go insane. It had been four days since you had gotten your fingers on anything interesting, and it was putting you in the foulest sort of mood you had been in for ages. You blamed it all on the grumpy man with the long dark hair.

When you had made that promise to the man with the wristwatch to never steal again, you obviously had not planned on keeping your word. It was only two days later, however, that you began to realize you were being watched. When you were walking into the bakery, you spotted that same man with the long dark hair now pulled up into a low bun and a ball cap on his head standing at the newsstand. You immediately knew it wasn’t a coincidence.

He had known at the time that the promise you made to his friend was empty, so you supposed he was here to keep an eye on you and make sure that you did not actually continue about your thieving ways. It was near laughable how inconspicuous he thought he was, reading his newspaper with suspicious eyes peeking over the top. It became your sole form of entertainment during your workdays, catching him doing ridiculous things like hiding behind a mannequin in the boutique across the road, or raising an eyebrow at the mountain of food he would buy from one of the food trucks and then being amazed that he actually managed to eat it all.

He didn’t know that you knew. You were extra careful about that. You always played the part of an ignorant baker’s daughter just placing pastries on display and helping customers with a saccharine smile. You made sure to never look at him directly after spotting him that first morning; you only observed him observing you from the corner of your eye.

It was in the evenings after work that the man infuriated you. He followed you home, and in any other circumstance you might have been creeped out, but you knew exactly why he was doing it. He was watching to see if you would dare sneak your hand into the pockets of any late-night streetwalkers, and so you could not. You weren’t sure what the man would do if he caught you stealing for a second time, probably call the cops or march you down to the police station himself.

He would disappear after you had made it home, and you supposed you could have snuck back out after he was gone, but you didn’t want to take the risk. You walked into your apartment each night, holding onto your keys long after you’d closed the door, the cool metal easing the ache that plagued your hands in their withdraw from snatching belongings. Your apartment was decorated in an industrial style, quirky metal shelves or stools poking out of every crevice.

With your usual hobby being blocked, you decided to focus your energy on a more elaborate form of entertainment. The night after the encounter with the two men, you had a dream about the Avengers compound, and more specifically about Tony Stark’s Iron Man suits. You dreamed that you had snuck in and put one of the suits on, and as the carbon fiber and graphite enveloped you, that itching need in your fingers to take what does not belong to you had almost, almost gone away.

So, this became your new project: plotting a way to break into the Avengers compound and steal one of Stark’s many suits. You planned to take it for a little joy ride and then dump it somewhere far from your apartment so that he couldn’t trace it back to you. You were only a pickpocket though, and this sort of high-level thievery was completely out of your skillset, so you surmised that it would take weeks or maybe even months of planning.

As the days went by, you found it more and more gratifying to watch the man grow tired and frustrated that he had not caught you stealing again. Each day, you wore a bigger smile on your face as you arrived at work, thinking about how your plans for Operation Get The Suit were coming along. You still longed to pickpocket as you walked about the streets, but your nighttime plotting was enough to keep your brain occupied and somewhat sane.

After about two weeks of this routine, something quite out of the ordinary occurred. The man did not show up one morning to watch you at the bakery. You kept an eye out all day, and never once did his recognizable ball cap and furrowed brows appear in your line of sight. He was missing, and you wondered if he had just given up. Maybe he believed that you would, in fact, never steal again. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore, finally stepping down from his soapbox of righteousness. Or… and you were surprised at how much this worried you, maybe something bad had happened to him.

You were nervous all day, messing up recipes that you had known since you were a child, accidentally giving customers the wrong orders, and nearly bumping into your fellow employs because your eyes were always studying the other side of the street out the shop windows. As you arrived at your apartment that night, your heart was racing, an anxious dread consuming you. Where had the man gone? You had never even learned his name, so you had no way of knowing if he had in fact died or something. You needed a way to calm your nerves, despite having no idea why they were even in such a state. Why did you care about this man’s well-being so much?

You decided to go out. Pickpocketing was the one thing that had always made you feel better, and you hoped it would do the same for you now. You figured the coast was clear to not get caught considering the long-haired man was MIA. Just to be safe, you went down a different street you had never been before, and you got your fingers on a small wrench that somebody kept in their pocket for some reason. Next was a sewing kit that contained a metal thimble, and then out of pride and a little spite, you stole someone’s wristwatch to make up for the one that the blond man had not let you take.

However, for the first time in your life, none of it seemed to ease your worried state. You still could not stop thinking about that man who had become a constant presence in your life over the past couple of weeks. His watchful eyes almost seemed to have brought you comfort, and without them, you felt unsafe. You slept restlessly, and by the time your alarm went off for your morning shift at the bakery the next day, you wore large bags under your eyes.

When you walked into work that day, to your immense delight, which you were careful not to display on your face, the man was back at his usual newsstand.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything had been going exactly according to Bucky’s plan. It had all been perfect… until Natasha got herself involved. It hadn’t really been her fault; at least, Bucky didn’t think so. Now though, there was one extra person aware of the watch he was keeping on the thieving woman, and he only hoped Nat would take his side and not tell Steve or Tony.

It had been the day after another mission. He had to relent to letting Y/N go unwatched for a day because he couldn’t slip out of his Avenger duties. The next day, while back at his post across the street from the bakery, he spotted none other than Natasha Romanoff entering the shop. Bucky thought for sure she was on to him and was going to tell the woman he had been following her. To his bewilderment, she seemed to be picking up a cake and left rather quickly.

The man glanced back at the shop before making a split decision to leave his post once again and follow Natasha. “Bucky? What are you doing here?” she said when he had nearly caught up to her.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied.

“It’s Bruce’s birthday tomorrow. I was picking up a cake for his party. Did you not get the invitation?”

“Uhh, haven’t looked at my mail recently. Are you sure that’s all you were doing? You weren’t ratting me out to Y/N?”

Natasha looked genuinely confused. “Who is Y/N? And what have you done that would grant me ratting you out?”

He was still suspicious though. “Why did you decide to come to this bakery? It’s not the closest one to the compound.”

“It was recommended to me.”

“By who?”

“By FRIDAY.”

Bucky realized exactly what had happened. “That conniving little AI,” he said angrily under his breath.

“James,” Natasha sounded quite impatient now, “are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

He knew that he was trapped now; if he didn’t tell Natasha the whole truth, she would know and never let the matter go until she was in possession of all the facts.

“The bakery employee who helped you… she’s a thief. Steve and I caught her trying to steal from us one night, and Steve let her go on the promise that she wouldn’t do it again… but I don’t trust her to keep her word, and I think she’s capable of stealing far more than pocket change, so I’m keeping an eye on her.”

Natasha looked rather amused by his story. “You’re ridiculous.”

His face turned slightly pink from embarrassment because Bucky knew he might be going a little overboard with the situation, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. It drove him mad anytime he wasn’t keeping watch of her, and he had this burning desire to know what she was up to.

“Look, I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. Just please don’t tell anyone else on the team about this. I promised Steve I would leave her alone.”

Nat was silent for a long moment, clearly contemplating something. “Bucky, are you sure this isn’t a soulmate thing?”

“What? Of course not. You know I don’t believe in that shit.”

“Just because you don’t believe in it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. And I’ve never seen you acting this strange before, especially not over a beautiful woman. Tell me, do you feel like you have an unexplained connection to her?”

“No. I told you, Nat, I’m just trying to prevent her from committing a crime.”

“Are you attracted to her?”

Bucky’s already pinked cheeks took a turn towards deep red. “I mean… she’s… uh… she’s a rather nice-looking woman… but that’s got nothing to do with it.”

“So, she’s a criminal, and you’re a crime-fighting superhero… sounds like soulmates to me.”

He couldn’t tell if she was entirely serious, but he was already fed up with this conversation. “Just give me your word that you won’t say anything to the others and leave me be.”

“Fine,” she relented, “but you owe me one.”

He supposed owing the Black Widow a favor wasn’t the best spot to be in, but he didn’t have another choice.

At the end of the workday, Y/N walked her usual route home, and Bucky made sure to follow from an inconspicuous distance. His eyes focused hard on her hands every time another pedestrian passed her, making sure that she didn’t quickly sneak her fingers into their pockets. When she arrived at her front door, the sun was setting, and Bucky prepared himself to turn away and head back to the compound as soon as she made it inside.

She placed her key in the knob and unlocked it, but then she paused, and Bucky’s interest peaked. Maybe she was considering staying out for some late-night stealing. Instead, she turned around in a flash and was looking right at him.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” she called out. “Also known as Sergeant Barnes of the Howling Commandos. AKA the Winter Soldier. AKA an Avenger.”

He felt as if his mouth was glued shut. Bucky was speechless. He couldn’t believe that she knew he had been following her, much less that she knew exactly who he was. His first thought was to assume that Natasha had, in fact, ratted him out, but he was usually excellent at determining when people were lying right to his face.

Their eyes were locked. Her bright orbs piercing through his steel-blue, and it seemed to be a battle of wills. Eventually, she asked, “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

“Why?” he managed to get out.

“Why not?”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“So that you can see I’m just a normal person and not some criminal mastermind then.”

“When did you realize I was following you?”

“The day you started following me. You’re not subtle. I would think an Avenger would be better trained at covert operations.”

“So, you recognized me right away?”

“No, no. I only put the pieces together about your identity when the Black Widow purchased a cake today and I saw you follow her after she left the shop. That’s when I realized where I recognized you from. And your friend that I tried to steal the watch from was Captain America, right?”

“Yeah…” Bucky supposed that if he really did want to learn what this woman was up to, there was no more revealing a place than a person’s home. “Fine. I’ll come in for some tea.”


	5. Chapter 5

Thankfully, your plans for the Iron Man suit heist were tucked away safely in your bedroom closet. This offer to have the Winter Soldier in for tea had been a complete spur of the moment decision, so you silently praised your past self for having the foresight to hide them. You felt a bit silly for not recognizing the man sooner. After all, you had been watching him watching you for weeks now. You chalked it up to the fact that it had been quite dark on that night that you first met, and since then, he had always been wearing that cap low over his face.

As he followed you into your living room, you watched his eyes search your house intently, clearly looking for anything incriminating to prove himself right about you.

“You know… for an Avenger, you’re not very sneaky.”

“Well, I… I normally am quite… sneaky. But for some reason, you throw me off my game.”

You felt a little baffled by his honest words. You could relate to them, though. When this man was around, you felt incapable of stealing anything. You were sure that was why Steve Rogers had caught you that one night: the presence of James Barnes had thrown you off your game.

“Right… why exactly have you been following me? I didn’t realize pickpockets were such a high priority for the World’s Most Magnificent Heroes.”

“I’m not on official Avengers business.”

“So… you’re just a creep?”

His face blushed red. “No! I suspect you’re up to something far worse than pickpocketing, but some of the others don’t believe me. I decided to investigate on my own.”

You wandered into your kitchen and started the kettle, actually intending to make some tea. The man followed you, still with that nosy eye scanning all of your belongings.

“Where were you yesterday, James Barnes?”

“Bucky,” he said and then instantly looked like he regretted it.

“Sorry?”

“I go by Bucky, never James.”

You couldn’t believe he was offering up personal information about himself. He really must have been off his game.

“Okay, Bucky, where were you yesterday?” you tried again, hoping he’d be naïve enough to answer.

“…was on a mission.”

“With the Avengers?”

“…yeah.”

“The whole team?”

“Yeah, I rarely go on missions that don’t require all of us.”

The kettle started whistling, and you turned away from him to pull it off the stove. A pleased smile crept onto your face that Bucky could not see. You grabbed two mugs from your cabinet.

“How do you like your tea?” you asked him.

“Plain is fine,” he muttered.

“We have that in common,” you informed him, always so disgusted when people ruined their tea with heaps of cream or sugar or honey.

You passed him his mug and then banged yours against it. “Cheers to this unusual friendship, Bucky.”

“We’re not friends,” he said gruffly before taking a sip of the simmering liquid.

“We see each other every day. I’m calling you by your nickname now. We’re sharing tea. Sounds like friendship to me,” you replied with a smirk.

He studied you intently, and it was the first time you could get a proper look directly into his eyes. They were beautiful. You’d never had a favorite color, but you supposed if someone asked you now, it would have to be a lovely mixture between blue and grey. His dark eyelashes were somewhat long, similar to his hair and his beard, and every other part of this man was subconsciously trying to hide himself. You noted how odd it was that a man so determined to hide in plain sight, to disappear from the world, stood out so spectacularly to you. You thought you might be able to spot this man even if he was shielded under some sort of invisibility blanket. He was that captivating to you.

“Acquaintances,” he eventually said.

“Fine. I’ll accept acquaintances. But that means we’re only one step away from friends. I can’t wait to be your friend, Bucky,” you teased him.

“And you thought I was creepy,” he teased right back, and you were surprised the man had it in him to be anything other than dead serious.

“You are creepy.”

“Am not.”

“Are you going to stop following me, then?”

“… no.”

“Then you’re creepy.”

“I still don’t trust you not to start stealing again. And I definitely think you’re up to something big. I’ll find out what it is soon enough.”

These words were music to your ears for a multitude of reasons. First, as you had already discovered, you felt more comfortable when you knew the man was around. Second, this game of cat and mouse you were now playing was quite exciting to you. Third, you knew just how to use Bucky as a resource to help with Operation Get the Suit.

“Well, I look forward to seeing you in the morning then, Bucky.”

“You’re not mad that I’m not going to leave you alone?”

“Mad? Course not… I’m flattered really that a man as fine as you is so attracted to me that he can’t seem to keep his eyes off me.”

There was that lovely blush again, peaking out over the top of his dark facial hair.

He sighed, clearly frustrated that you always seemed to get the better of him. “Just tell me why you steal. If it’s not for money, and it’s not to be cruel, then why do you do it?”

This was the first time that he had you at a loss of what to say. You might have been tempted to tell him the truth, if you even had a full understanding of what the truth was yourself. But you didn’t. All you knew was this urge to steal things, metal made things, that you had felt since your earliest memories.

You looked away from him, grabbing both of your empty mugs and putting them in the sink, using it as a way to distract yourself. “I don’t know. It’s just a desire I have that I find hard to ignore. I promise you that I don’t keep the things I take. I always try my best to return them in due time.”

“That still doesn’t make any sense to me,” he told you in a voice of disbelief.

You met his eye again. “Have you ever felt this unexplainable pull toward something, like it consumes your brain and possesses your every waking thought? Like you’ll never feel at ease until you just get your fingers on the thing that’s pulling you toward it?”

You saw something like recognition flash across his face. Once you were sure he could understand what you were talking about, you continued, “That’s how I feel about other people’s watches and keys and pocket change. I know it’s weird, but there’s no other way for me to explain it.”

After gazing into your eyes for what felt like hours, Bucky finally glanced away and cleared his throat. “I should be going. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll be the one selling pastries,” you attempted to joke, but he didn’t laugh. He simply walked out of your front door without another word.

Hours later, you sat hunched over the kitchen table, blueprints of the Avengers’ compound spread out before you. You had found them online after days of useless searching and then a quick call to a friend of yours that was skilled in hacking. You scribbled notes furiously into a notebook, each one an important point that you could not forget in your heist. The next time Bucky was gone from his watch over you, and confirmed to be on a mission with the rest of his team, you would be prepared to take one of Stark’s suits.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided that updates for this story will be about 2 per week. The next one should go up on 10/12. Hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

Bucky had been feeling…. strange. This weird sensation had been growing inside of him ever since the night that Y/N had invited him into her apartment. He couldn’t explain it, but walking into her place had felt like coming home. He’d felt a welcoming air as he crossed that threshold that he had never felt in any place of his own. He certainly didn’t get the same feeling when returning to his quarters at the compound. His mind was at a loss for how to comprehend the fact that a place he had never visited before, never seen before with his own two eyes, could feel so familiar and comforting to him.

He must have been losing it…

Bucky joined her for evening tea three more times that very same week. Throughout the day, they went about their usual routines: him watching her work as if she didn’t know he was there, and her watching him out of the corner of her eye with a knowing smirk plastered on her face all day long.

And then he’d follow her home from work, as usual, but it was only now that he noticed himself keeping more of a cautious eye on all the sketchy looking people that she passed rather than on the woman herself. Bucky was a bit baffled to realize he was concerned for her safety and that he cared more about actually seeing her home without harm than he did about catching her stealing something.

That next night after their first tea, when she got to the doorway of her apartment, she simply glanced at him over her shoulder and asked, “You coming in?” before unlocking the door and pushing it open.

He followed her without a word.

They had talked about everything under the sun… everything except for her habit of thievery. That seemed to be the one thing off the table, but she told him about everything else. She talked about her mother who owned the bakery, how the woman had had an obsession with mixing up sugary concoctions since she was a young girl. She told him about her Uncle Thomas, her father’s brother, who had spoiled her since she was a young girl. He and his wife had tried for a daughter three times but ended up with a rambunctious boy every single time. She claimed that the brotherly relationship that Thomas and her father maintained was a force to be reckoned with, one that could not be broken by any trials or tribulations. She said it was this bond that she had always admired most in her life.

He found out about her best friend Liv who had become a botanist. Y/N seemed to have a sort of cynical attitude towards her closest pal, and it was not until that fourth evening of tea with her that he pinpointed exactly why that was. Liv apparently had a soulmate, and she had found him in college.

“You don’t believe in soulmates?” he questioned, already surmising the answer.

“God, no. People can’t seem to accept that love is a commitment and one you have to work for at that. They tell themselves it’s a soul bond in order to make it feel like the mere thought of separation between them would be impossible.”

Bucky nodded his head, finding most of his thoughts in easy alignment with her words. He could see it now; she admired the connections in life that were worked for, not the ones claimed to be designed by the fates. She respected her father and uncle for working every day of their lives to remain good brothers to each other. She enjoyed her relationship with Liv because it was a bond that Y/N had put in great effort to build. She seemed far less impressed by things like her parents’ marriage or the marriage between her uncle and aunt. These connections she viewed as false and flimsy, held together only by the mere premise that soulmates do exist.

He told her about himself as well, filling in all the details about his life that she couldn’t read online. He described the various personalities of the different members of the team, providing humorous anecdotes of his moments with stubborn Steve and snide Sam. He began revealing his opinions about the soulmate matter as well; Natasha and Bruce would never say whether or not they believed themselves to be soulmates, but Bucky knew for certain that couldn’t be the case. Tony, as obsessed with science and facts based entirely in reality as he was, would tell anyone who would listen that he and Pepper were fated from the start to be together forever. Steve believed in soulmates as well… but he thought he’d lost his chance with his a very long time ago.

The lot of them were fools. They made calculated decisions every day of their lives, but when it came to love, they felt the need to buy into this hoax. Bucky could never be so naïve. Besides, he was pretty sure that if for some ridiculous reason soulmates did actually exist, the fucked up Winter Soldier would certainly not be assigned one by the powers that be.

Sometimes, Y/N did things that Bucky found rather strange. If they were sitting on her couch, sipping their cups of steaming tea, she’d reach over and run her fingers across the metal top of her coffee table once every few minutes. Other times, she’d have a spoon in hand, twirling it between her fingers the entire time they spoke. It intrigued him, and he often felt his own gloved fingers twitching in response.

He never asked her about the odd ticks in her behavior though. He observed them first with caution, then with interest, and eventually with fondness. Bucky decided somewhere between Tea Nights three and four that he quite liked this woman. Sure, she had her faults, pickpocketing being the primary example, but he’d certainly done much worse things than that in his past. And now, it seemed she was turning over a new leaf anyway. She hadn’t stolen a single thing in ages, and Bucky couldn’t tell that she had any real desire for it anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

In hindsight, this addiction to stealing might have been clouding your reasoning capabilities. In reality, the plan had been a heaping mess from the start, but you’d pushed on because something about the Avengers compound had been calling to you. The thought of taking one of Stark’s suits brought you so much joy that you couldn’t see the very disaster you were manifesting. In short, you had fucked up royally.

A week after his first tea visit, Bucky was on a mission again. You knew this because he was glaringly missing from his usual post at the newsstand when you walked into work that morning. You waited three hours before telling your mother you weren’t feeling well and asked to take a sick day.

You rushed home with a determination like no other. Once there, you called your hacker friend, telling him to be on standby for his part of the plan. Really, all you needed him for was to override the security tech that you knew Stark had in place and to get you through the front door. You’d figure out the rest on your own. You had a few alternative courses of actions rehearsed in your mind, and when those failed, well, you were exceptionally great at thinking on your feet.

As you packed a backpack full of any sort of tool you thought you might need, as well as ones you probably wouldn’t but you threw in there anyway, you had a tiny moment of confliction. Should you be doing this? Risking going to jail over some ridiculous half-baked heist that would result in no real benefit to yourself or anyone else? Probably not. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Over the course of your life, you had never felt truly passionate about anything. You had never had large ambitions for a career, never grand hopes of a large family, never big dreams of traveling the world. You’d never felt the pleasant suffocation of all-encompassing love. The mind-boggling bliss of being held by someone who cared about you more than they cared about themselves. Sure, you’d had pleasurable nights with a few different guys on the odd occasion, but true passion was something you had never felt before.

Now, that contented satisfaction you felt while pickpocketing had morphed into something else and refocused itself on the suit heist. You were passionate about this, and your brain would rather shut down permanently than have to reject this new passion.

You drove to the compound in silence, no pop tunes playing on the radio. You had the windows of your car rolled down, letting the cool night wind energize you as it brushed your face. You weren’t nervous about what you were doing. You were motivated. Captivated, even. Enthralled by this place that you had never been but that had somehow grown so important in your heart. At this point, you weren’t even sure if it was the actual act of taking Stark’s suit that excited you or if it was simply breaking into the compound itself.

You turned your headlights off just before pulling into the compound parking lot. The open-air was eerily quiet as you cautiously climbed out of your car. Gravel crunched under your quick-moving feet. Your backpack was slung over one shoulder, and you studied the main entrance to the compound with unbridled elation. You sent a quick text to your friend to access the door, and he quickly messaged you back that you were good to go.

You slowly turned the tech controlled handle that had easily given way after being deactivated remotely, and then you walked through the door.

You had been prepared for blaring alarms, flashing red lights, or even an immediate lockdown protocol at your entrance. Never in a million years had you expected all the Avengers to be sitting on a large couch munching on popcorn and staring at you with wide eyes as a movie played in the background.

You stood perfectly motionless, glancing around at each one of them. Every single set of eyes was slowly narrowing into suspicion, even those of the ever-trusting Steve Rogers. But when you eventually landed on Bucky’s, his eyes only stared at you with care and concern. “Y/N? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Bucky. I just really need to talk to you about something, and uh…. I didn’t have your number to be able to call.” As you’d said before, quick on your feet.

“How’d you get through that door?” Tony Stark asked before Bucky could say anything else.

“It was unlocked.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Even so, why would you just walk in without knocking?”

“I did knock.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. Nobody answered, and as I said, I really need to speak with Bucky, so I took the risk of checking the handle, and it turned out to be unlocked.”

Tony obviously didn’t believe you, nor the rest of the group of superheroes. Bucky stood from the couch though, a fuzzy blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape. It was then that you realized he looked rather worse for wear. His nose was red and raw. There were dark bags under his eyes, and the rest of him looked quite pale.

“Come on, we can talk in my quarters,” Bucky said as he took off walking and gestured for you to follow him.

“Are you sick?” you asked him quietly as the two of you paced down some hallway.

“Yeah, I woke up feeling awful this morning. Should be over by tomorrow though. The serum promotes extra fast healing and all that.”

“Too under the weather for spying?” you teased him.

“Unfortunately. Still ended up getting to see your pretty face anyway,” he remarked and then looked immediately embarrassed that he had let such a thing slip past his lips.

The comment made your stomach churn in an anxious way. You had sensed the man growing rather sweet on you in the past week. You had started to feel some things for him yourself, and it only made you feel infinitely worse about what your stupid brain had convinced you to attempt tonight. You knew you had to tell him the truth and ultimately prove that he had been right about you all along. You were a pathetic criminal. Always up to no good.

Once in his room with the door closed, you dropped your backpack to the floor. The metal of the tools clanged around a bit, and Bucky raised his eyebrows in curiosity at the contents. You felt the tiniest bit of tears prickling at your eyes, but you pushed them down as you addressed the man who would be either your savior or your doom. “Bucky, I fucked up.”

He glanced at you and then back to your bag. “Did you steal again? Are those other people’s belongings?”

And you almost wanted to say yes, to tell him ‘yes, that’s all this panicked visit to the compound had been about,’ but each moment of this past week where he had been so honest and open and trusting with you flashed behind your eyelids as you closed them heavily. You gulped, and it nearly echoed throughout the room. “No, those belong to me,” you said in a nearly inaudible voice.

“Then, what’s this about?”

When he gently placed both of his hands on the sides of your arms, you realized that this was the first time you had ever seen him without gloves on. He was in the comfort of his own home, and his hands were perfectly exposed. The cool metal that brushed the skin of your right arm sent wondrous tingles down your spine.

“I…” you were losing focus as those vibranium fingers gently tightened around your bicep. But you had to tell him. If you had never done a single right thing in your life, let the first time be now, even if it tarnished your name and swept away everything that you had suddenly built with this man. You couldn’t let the satisfaction that your soul felt as Bucky caressed you keep you from being completely honest with him. “I… came here to steal from Tony…”

He took a step back. “What do you mean?”

His hands were gone, and you felt more empty now than you ever had in your entire life.

“I thought you all would be gone on a mission…. I had been planning to lift one of his suits.”

Bucky looked away from you, unable to meet your eyes any longer, and you were sort of glad he was sparing you from the stare of disappointment. “Please tell me you’re referring to something designed by Versace or something.” But he already knew full well that wasn’t the sort of suit you were referring to.

You remained silent, and the tears did spill over the edges of your eyelids this time.

“I can’t believe you! I had started to trust you. To like you. To fall for you! And all along you were just using me to get after Tony’s Iron Man suit.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry! It wasn’t like that. It really wasn’t. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Because you’re a thief?!” his voice was acidic. “And that’s all you’ll ever be, right? I had you pegged correctly from the start, and it was only when you invited me in for tea that I began to lose my head.”

He turned his back to you completely now, head bowed. “Should have known better,” he mumbled under his breath.

You reached out, clinging onto his metal fingers, a sob ripping from your throat. His hand against yours was the only thing bringing you enough courage to say your next words. “But I’m here now, telling you the truth, telling you that I do want to change. I’m telling you that I’m sorry and that I don’t want to be this way anymore. And I really started to like you too, Bucky. Can’t we work through this?”

He pulled his left hand from your grasp, glancing back at you with disgust etched across his handsome features. “I’ll keep your little secret about why you were really here, but I want you to leave, and I never want to see you again.”

“But I…”

“Just go, before I tell Tony what you were really doing here tonight.”

That cold dismissal nearly broke you. The pain was unexplainable considering you’d barely been acquainted with Bucky for any time at all, but it felt like losing a lifelong friend… or a dear lover. Damnit if all this new passion inside of you hadn’t clearly been directed at him. But just like that, he had doused the flame with ease between his index finger and thumb. 

He escorted you back through the main room and to the exit. You kept your eyes averted the whole way, not wanting to suffer another interrogation by Tony Stark. You stepped outside into the cool air and took one last glance up at Bucky. He shut the door in your face without another word.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is still enjoying this story :) Leave a comment with your favorite part of the chapter, please!

Steve looked absolutely pissed. Natasha looked a little smug, like she wanted to utter an ‘I told you so’ in Bucky’s direction. Tony looked intrigued, clearly still wondering who that woman was, what she had been doing here, and how she had gotten through that door.

Had he mentioned that Steve looked about ready to throttle him?

“Care to share with the room, Barnes?” Tony asked.

“She’s just a friend. Needed some advice, that’s all.” He couldn’t bring himself to meet Tony’s eye. Since when had Bucky gotten so bad at lying?

“Then why exactly did FRIDAY inform me that the door had been hacked from a remote location? I knew I hadn’t left it unlocked.”

Bucky thought Steve’s head might explode; it was the angriest he had ever seen his best friend.

“Look, Tony, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I promise you she wasn’t here to do any harm. We talked, sorted some things out, and she won’t be coming back. That’s all you need to know.” He stomped off to his quarters before he could be battered with more questions that he really had no good plan of how to answer.

To his dismay, Steve was storming down the hallway right after him, on a mission to confront Bucky when they were alone in his quarters. Bucky walked in and left the door open behind him. Steve slammed it the second he walked through.

“What the hell is going on, Buck?!”

Bucky could only scratch the back of his head nervously in response.

“I thought you made a promise to me not to go bothering that woman. Now the two of you are friends all of a sudden, and she has somehow gotten past Tony’s first line of security. Explain this to me, now Bucky!”

“I couldn’t help it, okay?!” Bucky finally shouted back at his friend. “I couldn’t just leave well alone. I had to find her and keep an eye on her. And then she knew I was following her and invited me in. I couldn’t say no, Steve. It’s like she’s a magnetic force, always pulling me towards her. I can hardly focus on anything else. We started talking, became friends. I thought I was falling for her.”

Bucky noticed that most of Steve’s anger had faded away all at once. His voice was much softer when he asked, “Thought you were? You don’t think you are now?”

Bucky looked away from his friend, feeling his own anger build once more, but not at Steve, at Y/N. He found his lips and his tongue unable to form the words needed to explain to Steve why he wouldn’t be falling for this woman anymore. Bucky sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, and Steve down beside him, resting a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“What did she do, Buck?”

“I promised her that I wouldn’t tell everyone why she was here.”

The room slowly filled with a silence, one so thick and full that Bucky wasn’t sure if there would be any spare room for words once either of them decided to speak again.

“She’s was planning to steal from us, wasn’t she?” Steve eventually questioned.

Bucky could only nod.

“What did she have to say about it?”

Bucky sighed, knowing that Steve wouldn’t stop asking these sorts of things until he got at least a few answers. “She said she couldn’t help it”

“Sort of like how you couldn’t help keeping an eye on her?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to Steve’s bright blue ones. “What’s your point?”

“Maybe there’s more to this. I know you don’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, but it is real, Buck, and what you’re describing to me about being magnetically pulled to her sounds an awful lot like that sort of bond.”

Bucky was already shaking his head, annoyed that Steve would bring up this ridiculous topic when it had already been a rough night and Bucky was already feeling quite hurt. “Don’t start with that load of garbage right now, Stevie. I’m so sick of everybody in the goddamn world droning on and on about fucking soulmates. They don’t exist, and even if they did, I certainly wouldn’t have one.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Bucky stood up again, pacing the room frantically. “Just look at me, Steve! A mangled mess. A former assassin. All kinds of fucked up in the head. How could I ever be destined to be loved by someone unconditionally? I don’t deserve it.”

“That’s enough,” Steve said a bit sternly. “You’re just as deserving of love as the rest of us. I have no doubt in my mind that you have a soulmate out there somewhere, and the more I think about it, the more likely it seems that this thieving woman just might be her.”

“So I had a strange feeling to be near her, that doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re forgetting that I already met my soulmate, Buck. What you described to me is how I always felt about Peggy… And then there’s the fact that your whole purpose in life now is to stop crime, and she’s a criminal. Don’t you think that might be something more than coincidental?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. It seems more like you’re trying to make connections where they don’t exist.”

“Is there anything else that’s strange about her? Anything that she has no explanation for?”

Bucky thought about it for a long moment, his brain flashing back to those strange ticks of hers. All the times she fiddled with her keys or a spoon or some pocket change. Each time she fidgeted for many long minutes before grazing her fingers across any metal surface.

“She likes to touch metal,” he blurted.

She likes to touch metal. Bucky glanced down at his metal fist, clenching and unclenching so tensely.

Why did Steve always have to be fucking right about everything?

“That’s why she steals metal things, isn’t it? She craves the touch of metal?” Steve was getting all excited now about this new discovery.

“Do you think…?” Bucky already knew it for certain in his brain, but he was waiting for Steve to connect those same dots.

“It’s because of your arm, Buck! It has to be!” Steve was wearing a full-on smug grin now. If Bucky hadn’t been so stunned by this whole soulmate realization, he might have punched Steve right in his smug face.

Ever the skeptic though, Bucky pressed on with a more important point. “That still doesn’t excuse the fact that she tried to steal from us. How can I be soulmates with a person like that?”

“Did she say what she was trying to steal?”

So, Bucky reluctantly told him it had been one of Tony’s Iron Man suits she was after. Steve had quickly pointed out that this had obviously been another manifestation of her obsession with touching metal. He had then explained to Bucky that she must have felt compelled to come here because it was Bucky’s home.

Bucky thought it was a bit of a stretch, but he couldn’t deny the feeling he was having now to go to her and take every cruel thing he had said back and apologize. He wanted to assure her that he knew she didn’t believe in soulmates but ask her if at the same time she might give the idea of them being each other’s soulmate more than a passing thought.

It was late at night though, and Bucky didn’t want to do anything rash. He would wait.


	9. Chapter 9

You confessed to Liv about everything. The whole fucking mess that was your life. You had returned home after Bucky promptly booted you out the door, barely able to drive because tears were flooding your face and sobs spilled from your throat uncontrollably. As soon as you stumbled into your apartment, ashamed and heartbroken, you’d dialed your friend’s phone number. It was pretty late, and she was probably asleep, but you and Liv had always had a policy that if the other person was very upset about something it was never too late at night to talk about it.

You could barely speak when Liv answered the phone. She immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you crying?” she said, trying to shake the sleepiness out of her voice.

“God Liv, I am such a freaking idiot. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what I was thinking, what I was doing. He’ll never forgive me…”

“Who’ll never forgive you?… You know what, scratch that. I’m getting my clothes on and coming over. I’ll be there in five.” She hung up before you could object.

You glanced around your small living room, making sure it wasn’t a complete disaster. After taking a few dirty cups to the sink, you collapsed on your couch and waited for Liv to arrive. In exactly five minutes, the lock on your front door was turning with the spare key you had given your friend.

“Oh, honey,” she said as soon as she spotted your blotchy face and puffy eyes. “What on earth has happened to you?” She quickly walked over to the couch and sat next to you, embracing you in a warm hug.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you said as new tears dropped over your bottom lashes.

“How about you tell me who this ‘he’ is that’s supposedly never going to forgive you?” She was rubbing a comforting palm in circles across your back now. Liv really was a wonderful friend, almost like a big sister most of the time. You took her compassion and loyalty for granted far too often. You needed to start telling her ‘thank you’ every once in a while.

“Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky who?”

“James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier. A member of the Avengers.”

“You know one of the Avengers? How’d that happen?”

“He’s sort of been spying on me…”

She pulled out of the hug and shot you a worried and baffled expression.

“There’s something you should know about me Liv… I’m a thief.” She remained silent, and so you continued your story. You told her about how you’d always had this desire to steal things, metal things, but you never understood what it meant before. You explained how you practiced over and over again until you were an expert at the art of pickpocketing, and then you finally detailed the night that Steve Rogers had caught you in the act. You rushed through everything that had happened since then, how close you had gotten with Bucky, and then how it had all come to a head tonight.

Just as you had realized how important Bucky really was to you, that he was your soulmate, he’d rejected you because of the terrible things you had done and had planned to do tonight if the Avengers had really been gone on a mission. The second you had touched his hand, it all fell into place in your brain. His arm was the metal you had always craved. You did these mad and unreasonable things because you had always yearned to touch a man that you hadn’t met until a few weeks ago.

When you finally got it all out, Liv leaned back on the couch, crossed her arms, and smiled at you. “It’s about time,” she said.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh geez, I don’t need an ‘I told you so’ from you. So you were right about the soulmates thing, but that’s not important right now. I need you to tell me how to fix things with Bucky so that my soulmate doesn’t spend the rest of his life hating me.”

“Do you really think he could hate you if he’s your soulmate?”

“I’m almost one hundred percent sure that he does, yes.”

“So he felt a little betrayed. That doesn’t mean he hates you. He’s probably already regretting having kicked you out.”

“You didn’t see the way he couldn’t even look at me. He was so disgusted by the thought of me using him to get to Tony’s suit.”

“You weren’t just using him though, were you?”

“I mean, I suppose I was using him to figure out when the Avengers might be away from the compound, but honestly, I knew the plan was stupid from the start. I just couldn’t resist doing it. There was something pulling me so strongly, and now I realize it was the whole soulmates bullshit that was affecting me. I really was starting to like Bucky a lot though, and now I’ve ruined my chance with him.”

“I think you need to try to talk to him again, try to explain the whole soulmate thing.”

“He’ll never believe me. He doesn’t think soulmates exist either.”

Liv smirked at you. “Wow, you two really are perfect for each other.”

She ended up sleeping on your couch for the remainder of the night. You attempted to go to sleep in your bed, but your racing mind was wide awake.

The next morning, you were groggy as all hell as you slipped into your work clothes. Liv had already left for her own home by the time you stumbled into the living room. You walked to work with a grey cloud hanging over your head. Some part of you held out hope that Bucky might be there at the newsstand waiting to keep his gorgeous eyes on you once again. Just like old times.

When you approached the shop, you glanced over with that desperate hope in your gaze. Not a longhaired, ball cap wearing, super-soldier in sight. You sighed sadly and walked into the bakery.

The hours dredged on, and you tried your best to put on a happy smile for the customers and your coworkers, not wanting to have to deal with someone asking you what was wrong, especially not your mother. It was all you could do not to cry into a bowl of cake batter in the back room. You were miserable.

Around lunchtime, you were bent over carefully placing fresh cupcakes into the front display, paying no attention to the low murmurs of the customers happily eating their desserts at various tables. Your head was down, intently observing the spaces between the cupcakes, making sure that they were placed in an organized fashion, when a voice on the other side of the counter said, “I was wondering if I could get a dozen of those chocolate ones.”

You recognized the deep gruff instantly. Your head snapped up unwisely and banged against the edge of the display case. “Owe! Shit!” you said under your breath. You glanced up to meet the eyes of the man that had startled you.

His brow was furrowed in concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that. I thought you saw me walking up.”

You rubbed at the tender spot on your scalp. “It’s all right. Not your fault…. But what are you doing here? I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but then he glanced back at the long line forming behind him. “Umm, do you get a lunch break or anything? Maybe we could get a table and talk things out?”

You nodded, still in disbelief that he would ever show up at the bakery again, much less come in and buy a dozen cupcakes.

“Okay, I’ll just be over there,” he informed you with a point to the table by the corner window. He walked away, and you hurried to box up his cupcakes before telling one of your coworkers that you were going on break.

You weren’t sure how you felt about this impromptu meeting with Bucky. You hoped it meant good things for the future of your relationship and not that he was only here to scold you about your thieving tendencies once again.


	10. Chapter 10

She brought him tea along with the boxed up cupcakes. It was his favorite flavor: lemongrass and chamomile. She sat down across from him, and they stared at each other awkwardly before both blurting out, “I’m sorry,” almost in unison.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” she asked him with a puzzled look on her face.

“I overreacted. I didn’t give you the opportunity to explain yourself. I was pretty rude to you.”

“Oh Bucky, you had every right to react that way.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I was there to steal an Iron Man suit after all.”

He took a sip of the steaming tea and tapped his metal fingers against his thigh, keeping quiet until he had sorted out his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to approach the soulmate subject without spooking her.

“Well, I’m here now with open ears. Would you want to finally tell me what the stealing thing is all about?”

He watched her eyes flick to his left arm for only a portion of a second. Perhaps she was having the same suspicions as him after all.

She then glanced around the bakery, making sure that no one else was listening in. “All my life, I’ve had this obsession with metal that I couldn’t explain. As a child, I used to horde all the random metal objects in my parent’s house. Screws and paper clips and mint tins, whatever I could get my hands on…. But it wasn’t enough. The feeling wouldn’t go away, so I thought that maybe taking other people’s metal belongings might help subside this obsession. And it did, sort of. Honing my pickpocketing skill would occupy my mind enough that I could let myself think that this urge was being satisfied. I’d also make a sport of remembering who I took the things from and eventually returning them. It was my hobby, the one thing that could keep me from going insane.”

“Although deep down I knew there was something more to this obsession with metal, I could never make sense of it. I felt like a freak, a weirdo, and so I hid my strange desires and hobby from everyone I knew. Nobody had any inkling that I was a thief until Steve caught me in the act that night. Then, you started following me, and my flame of an obsession turned into an inferno. I started having these strange dreams about the Avengers compound, like something was telling me to go there. It sparked the idea for the Iron Man suit. I was also going a little mad from not stealing anything because I knew you were watching me. By the time I had the suit heist planned out, I knew it was the stupidest idea in history, but I still felt compelled to go there…”

“I now realize it was because that’s your home,” she finished.

“What do you mean?” Bucky pressed.

She averted her gaze and began fiddling with the corner of the cupcake box. “You’re going to think I’m a crazy fool.”

“I swear to you that I won’t,” he said in the most comforting voice he could muster.

“I never thought anything could convince me that soulmates are real… until I touched your metal hand.” She paused, studying his face for some sort of reaction, but he remained expressionless, waiting for her to explain further. “This obsession, this yearning that I’ve had ever since I could remember suddenly evaporated when our fingers connected. I knew then that the desire I’d always had to touch metal was really a desire to hold your hand. To hold my soulmate’s metal hand.”

He silently lifted the object of their discussion and rested it on the table, palm up, inviting her to run her fingers through his. She hesitated.

“I believe you. I felt something too, but I wasn’t sure what it was, and I was still trying to be stubborn about it until Steve convinced me. Will you take my hand?”

And when she finally did, Bucky felt a pleasant hum run through his body. It was like the feeling of submerging into a hot bath on a chilly winter night. The feeling of taking that first sip of coffee on a morning after getting no sleep. The feeling of watching the sun peak out on a dreary rainy day. The feeling of reading those mind-blowing last words in an enthralling novel. The feeling of a much-needed hug after going through a really hard time. It was the feeling one gets when taking a soulmate’s hand.

They’d touched before, but it had never been so intense. Perhaps it was because they could both finally acknowledge what they meant to each other.

“So, what does this mean for us?” she asked, still tracing circles on his metal palm with her thumb.

“I think it means that we still have things we need to work out. We certainly started out the relationship on the wrong foot, and I still have a bit of issue with you using me to try to sneak into the compound, buuuut….”

“But what?”

“I also think it means that we’re tied together whether we like it or not, so we might as well try to put some real effort into it.”

“You don’t think soulmates can choose to be apart from each other?”

“Maybe… but do you really want that? Because I don’t.”

She smiled contentedly. “I don’t either.”

Bucky took another sip of his tea that had significantly cooled off now, once again unsure of what to say.

“You said we started this all wrong. Maybe that’s what we need: a fresh start. We could take it from the top, do things right from the beginning.”

Now he was smiling because this woman really was wonderful. “So, this would be…?”

“Day One.”

“Day One?”

“Day One of getting to know your soulmate. I’m thinking by day thirty you’ll be madly in love with me.”

He chuckled and shook his head playfully. She had no idea that he was already halfway there.

“No need to rush. I’d be perfectly happy to fall in love with you even if it takes a year.”

“A year? What am I, a troll?” she scoffed.

“No, just a thief,” he answered with a grin.

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s a low blow, Barnes.”

“Sorry, sorry. My apologies. I already forgot this was Day One and I’m supposed to be making a good impression.”

She let out a lovely giggle. “On that note, I’ve gotta get back to work.”

She stood up, but he grabbed her hand before she could walk away. “Hey, how about a date? Let’s say, on Day Five?”

“Day Five it is,” she agreed before heading back behind the bakery counter. Bucky got up from the table himself and shot her a final wink before exiting the shop with his dozen cupcakes in tow.


	11. Chapter 11

On Day Two, you received another unexpected visit from Bucky Barnes.

“Back so soon?” you asked as he approached the counter at the bakery.

“Steve and Sam ate all my cupcakes… plus, I forgot something yesterday.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’d you forget?”

“Your phone number.”

You couldn’t suppress your grin. “Wow, so smooth. I might pass out from all the swooning I’m doing over here,” you teased him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I thought it might be kind of hard to sort out a time for the date if we have no way of communicating with each other.”

You glanced around to make sure nobody was in hearing distance before saying, “Are you sure you’re not just looking for a way to send me unsolicited dick pics?”

His face turned the desired shade of red, and you could only beam at him in delight. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I would never do something like that unprompted.”

“Then I suppose I can trust you with my number.” You held out your hand, waiting for him to give you his phone.

He dug it out of the back pocket of his dark jeans and handed it over. You quickly typed in your number and saved it under the name “Pickpocket” as a joke.

He let out a little chuckle when he took his phone back and saw it. “Thank you,” he said happily.

You boxed him up another dozen cupcakes, telling him to give Steve and Sam the message that they could always come buy their own cupcakes and support the business. And then he was gone, and the rest of your day passed in a blur as you re-played the short interaction over and over again in your head. Day Five couldn’t come fast enough.

On Day Three, you awoke to a text from an unknown number. It was a photo of a banana. Two minutes later, you got a message saying “Oops, sorry. I forgot you were opposed to unsolicited dick pics.”

You: Hilarious. You should try a show at the local comedy club.

Bucky: Nope. I’ll save all my best jokes just for you.

You: Please tell me that random photos of phallic-shaped objects is not going to become a regular thing.

Bucky: Well, it is now, but only because you said that.

You: Ugh. Are you trying to get me to cancel our date?

Bucky: OF COURSE NOT

Bucky: Also, Steve says hi, and that the cupcakes were delicious.

You: Umm? Hi to Steve I suppose.

Bucky: Sorry, he’s just really excited about the fact that I found my soulmate.

You: Does everyone on the team know about it?

Bucky: No. Only Steve. Well, Nat has her suspicions, but I haven’t confirmed them.

You: I haven’t told anyone other than Liv. I know my family is going to be overwhelmingly annoying about meeting you as soon as they know.

Bucky: What’s wrong with that?

You: Hmm, maybe the fact that I only met you myself two days ago ;)

Bucky: Oh right. I guess it would be too soon for family meetings and all that.

You messaged back and forth with Bucky all day, spending each break you got fully engrossed in your phone. Day Four passed in much the same fashion, with you waking up to a picture of an eggplant.

By the day of your scheduled date, you were incredibly antsy to see the man and flirt with him in person again. It was a Saturday in the middle of June. The sun was warm, but a gentle breeze kept the air from getting too hot. You’d gone over to Liv and Jeff’s apartment for breakfast, filling them in on all the things that had happened with Bucky since you’d last spoken with your best friend.

They could tell you were nervous. Nervous that Bucky might never be able to get over the hurt and betrayal he had felt that night. Nervous that he might decide that even though you were his soulmate, he’d rather live without you. Liv and Jeff talked you through the anxiety though, and you felt much calmer about the date by the time you returned home to get ready.

You weren’t sure where Bucky was taking you, but you knew it entailed lunch of some sort. You hadn’t ever seen him in a vehicle, he had always walked to the bakery before, so you were completely surprised to see him pull up outside your apartment on a sleek motorcycle. You had to admit to yourself that he looked like he was made for it. His black pants and black fitted T-shirt matching the leather of the seat. His metal arm blending in with the shiny handlebars. You stood there in your jean shorts and sky blue baseball tee, practically ogling him.

“You coming? Or are you just gonna stand there looking gorgeous all day?” he called out to you.

“You’re one to talk,” you called back as you quickly locked your front door. “Are you sure you’re going on a date? Because it kind of looks like you’re posing for some sort of sexy catalog…”

He shook his head and chuckled, clearly not believing your compliment. “These are my comfy clothes. And I’d look like a troll next to you any day of the week.”

You finally made your way over to him and carefully climbed onto the back of his bike with the help of his outstretched metal hand.

“Hold on tight,” was the only warning he gave you before peeling out and flying down the street.

“This was really thoughtful of you, Bucky,” you said as you looked around at all of the metal art sculptures that were on display. Unlike most exhibits, viewers were allowed to touch the pieces being shown.

“Thank you. I wanted it to be something special. Something significant.”

“It’s great. A little funny… but great.” You reached down and grabbed onto his left hand with your right. When the two of you were together, there was rarely a moment that your hands weren’t joined. “You do know that I’m perfectly fine as long as I have your hand though, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But like I said, I wanted our first date to mean something. Just don’t go stealing any of the sculptures, please.”

You pinched his left side with your free hand. “Wow, you’re really never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

You walked around together for nearly an hour, running your hands over metal birds and metal hearts and metal sculptures that were so abstract you had no idea what they were supposed to be. Bucky snapped some photos of you with his phone when you weren’t really paying attention to him, ones of you admiring the art, and then he took a selfie of the both of you sitting on his motorcycle.

He took you to a sandwich shop near the compound for lunch, swearing that they had the best Italian sub he had ever eaten in his entire life. You were more of a turkey and bacon girl yourself. You sat across from each other at an outdoor table, sipping strawberry lemonade through straws, soaking up the summer sun, and bathing in the bliss of a successful first date.


	12. Chapter 12

Bucky stumbled into the kitchen on a Sunday morning to the smell of Sam frying up slices of French toast, and Steve chopping fruits and vegetables in front of the blender for what looked to be a gross healthy smoothie. He spotted a cucumber off to the side of the cutting board and quickly snapped a picture of it.

“Why’d you take a picture of that cucumber?” Steve asked, giving his friend a quizzical look.

“No reason,” Bucky said vaguely.

Steve narrowed his eyes in suspicion but chose not to say anything further on the matter.

Pickpocket: I live for the day when you run out of fruits and vegetables that look like dicks.

Bucky: I’m sure there are plenty of other foods with that shape that I haven’t even explored yet.

He poured a mug full of fresh coffee that Sam had already brewed and sat down at the kitchen bar. He took a sip just as he was reading her next message.

Pickpocket: Or you could save yourself the trouble and send me an actual dick pic if it’s that important to you.

He snorted hot coffee up his nose and immediately went into a coughing fit.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Barnes?” Sam said with a concerned look on his face.

Bucky tried his best to clear his throat and regain his breath. “Uh, nothing. Just wasn’t expecting it to be so hot.”

“It’s coffee,” Sam said plainly, clearly insinuating that Bucky was an idiot.

Bucky: I thought you weren’t into unsolicited dick pics…

Pickpocket: Well, if I’m asking for it, it’s clearly not unsolicited, now is it?

Bucky: You’re somethin’ else

Pickpocket: Got any plans today?

Bucky: Training with the team until lunch. After that, my schedule’s completely open.

Pickpocket: Want to come over this evening for a pizza night and movie marathon?

Bucky: Sounds like heaven. I’ll be there.

It had been two weeks since their first date. Things were going really smoothly, and Bucky was feeling pretty smug about it. He visited her at the bakery during her lunch breaks whenever he had the time. They’d gone out on another fun date last weekend to a trivia night at some bar. Y/N thought it was hilarious because the trivia theme was The Avengers. She’d planned it, of course, and Bucky hadn’t known about it until they arrived. She didn’t seem too happy when they lost because Bucky refused to answer any of the questions, despite knowing the answers to all of them.

She got quite drunk and was a giggly mess as Bucky walked her home. As they made their way down the dark sidewalks, she rambled about all the dreams she’d been having about him, ones that he knew she would never be telling him about if she were sober. Bucky didn’t mention that he had dreams about her nearly every night as well. He wondered if it was another soulmate thing, like their minds couldn’t help but be drawn to one another during their most vulnerable states of slumber.

When he checked his phone again at lunchtime, hair still damp from the post-workout shower he’d just taken, there was a slew of texts from her asking questions in prep for the movie marathon.

Pickpocket: Name your top 3 favorite films of all time.

Pickpocket: What sorts of pizza toppings do you prefer?

Pickpocket: Please tell me you’re not the sort that likes to talk all the way through a movie.

Pickpocket: Oh shit, I forgot you were training until lunch.

Pickpocket: Now I’m picturing you training, and it’s an image that could rival the way you look on a motorcycle.

Pickpocket: Do you like peanut M&Ms?

Bucky smiled at his phone fondly, closed his eyes to think for a moment, and then typed out his answers.

He had barely knocked once before her door was flying open.

“You prefer regular M&Ms to the peanut ones?!” She looked like he had seriously affronted her. “I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to make this work after finding out that devastating bit of information.”

He smiled and place a soft kiss to her forehead before she titled her lips up to his and gave him a pouty kiss.

“Okay, drama queen, I really don’t think our differing opinions over M&Ms is that earthshattering of a development.”

Once he’d walked in and shut the door, she exclaimed dramatically with her hands thrown up in the air, “But we’re soulmates, Bucky! How can this be?!!”

He grabbed her hip with his right hand, pulling her close to him and using his left hand to tuck a crazy strand of hair behind her ear. “Soulmates doesn’t mean identical personalities, you know. And you don’t hear me complaining about your terrible taste in tea flavors.”

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “First you insult my peanut M&Ms, and now you have the audacity to trash talk my ginger tea? You’re really pushing your luck today, Buck.”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” he said as he watched her bite her lip in an effort to hide her grin.

“Almost as funny as you think you are when you send me those pictures each morning,” she quipped.

They settled down on her couch together. He let her play one of her favorite movies first, 50 First Dates, and the pizza arrived about halfway through. Bucky had never seen this film, but as he munched on thin slices of Italian sausage and pepperoni, he found that he quite liked it. The idea of starting over with the one you love every single day, but still being drawn to each other in a thousand different ways; it was rather romantic. Next, Bucky made her watch Episode IV of Star Wars. She didn’t seem all that interested in it, but she cuddled into his side contentedly.

The sun went down eventually as they ate their way through the ridiculous amount of candy and popcorn she had bought. Within the first ten minutes of starting The Art of Racing in the Rain, Y/N had tears streaming down her face.

“Why’d you pick this movie if it makes you cry?” he asked her as the tears stained the shoulder of his shirt.

“Because it’s amazing, and all the dog ever wanted was to become human. It’s just beautiful okay.”

“I didn’t realize you were so fond of dogs. I mean, you don’t even have one.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want one, and that it wouldn’t be as amazing as Enzo is in this movie,” she pointed out.

He let out a little laugh at her quirkiness. That was one thing he’d learned about her over the past two weeks. She was incredibly silly, but she also experienced emotions very strongly. When things were sad, well, they were really really sad to her. But it also meant that when she was happy, she looked like she was walking on a cloud. Her joy was contagious, and Bucky loved the way her moods seemed to take him over as well. Maybe it was all in his head, but when he looked into her eyes, it was as if he could experience exactly what she was feeling on the inside without her even having to tell him about it.

He stayed over at her apartment for the first time that night by complete accident. They’d barely made it to the end of that third movie, Bucky catching a glimpse of the little boy at the end with the name Enzo, a clear reincarnation of the beloved dog, before his eyes fluttered closed and he pulled Y/N tighter to his chest. They spent the whole night together on her tiny couch, under a much-too-short throw blanket. Bucky’s large feet had stuck out in the cold air all night long, but it didn’t really bother him. The warmth that was emanating through his heart as she clutched his left hand in her sleep was enough to set his soul aflame.


	13. Chapter 13

Bucky would always be by your side. That was one.

Steve had been the first one to know that you were Bucky’s soulmate, he was apparently very happy for both of you. That was two.

When Bucky had confessed the whole thing to Natasha, he’d come complaining to you about how smug she was, telling him “I told you so,” in regards to him having a soulmate. She’d surely be on your side as well, then. That made three. You had three people to be your buffers between yourself and the rest of the team.

You were pretty sure Tony Stark still wanted to have you thrown in jail. You stood in the same room where you had barged in on the whole team during that terrible night. Your favorite metal arm was wrapped around your waist as Bucky attempted to explain that your presence should be welcomed this time around.

“You brought your thief girlfriend back here for Cap’s birthday party? Why exactly? Wanted to give her another chance to get her hands on something good?”

“Tony,” Steve cut in before Bucky had a chance to go off on the man, “there’s no need for the accusations or more interrogations. I told Bucky to invite Y/N. She’s perfectly welcome here.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt you would feel the same if it was your shield she had tried to steal.”

“Actually,” you spoke up, “I did try to steal a very important item from Steve, but he seems to be a more forgiving sort than yourself, Mr. Stark.”

“I just think it’s a little far-fetched that that only reason you were a criminal was that Barnes here is your soulmate.”

“You’ve never done anything crazy or nearly illegal simply because of your bond with Ms. Potts?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Fine. You can stay, but that doesn’t mean I have to be nice to you.”

“If you don’t want a metal fist to the face, it does,” Bucky countered.

Tony rolled his eyes very dramatically and headed off to the bar without a response.

Steve passed a couple of beers to you and Bucky, and then the three of you headed out back to the outdoor terrace where Sam was working a very large grill covered in a wide variety of meats.

“So, this is the soulmate…” he said as you approached.

Bucky was grinning, clearly proud to tell anyone who would listen about his connection to you. “Sure is.” He emphasized his words by pulling you even closer into his side.

“Ever been to a 105th birthday party before, Y/N?”

You smiled. Sam seemed to be the sort of guy that didn’t hold grudges and would be easy to get along with. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Well, you’re in for a real boring night. These two geezers barely stay awake long enough to watch the fireworks each year, and they never get drunk enough to have any fun.”

“Because we can’t get drunk off regular liquor,” Steve pointed out in defense.

“Which is why we’ve tried to get you to drink the stuff that Thor brings, but you’re both cowards.”

“Thor? What sort of stuff does he bring?”

“Asgardian mead…” Bucky explained. “It’s strong enough to knock two super-soldiers on their asses. It’s made for the gods.”

You couldn’t help letting out a little laugh at the thought of Steve and Bucky getting completely plastered. “I’d love to see that.”

“Well, keep on dreaming because it’s never gonna happen,” Bucky told you.

“What he said,” Steve agreed as he raised his beer bottle in the air and then brought it to his lips.

The food finished grilling about an hour before dark. There was no formal meal at the dining room table. Everyone seemed to amble around the common area or the terrace with plates full of burgers and hotdogs in their hands, munching as they conversed. You stuck to Bucky’s side, unwilling to separate from him and risk having to face Tony all alone.

As Natasha emerged from the kitchen with the cake that she had bought from your mother’s bakery the day before, Wanda pulled out three large bottles of tequila from the bar. Everyone let out a chorus of cheers, but you weren’t sure if it was for the frosting covered dessert or the intoxicating drink.

You made a beeline toward Wanda, a little eager to take some shots and let loose a bit. Bucky was right behind you.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” he warned you.

“A double shot, please,” you told Wanda. To Bucky, you said, “What do you mean? Don’t think I can handle my liquor?”

“Sweetheart, you get drunk on jelly sweets. I am not letting you drink tequila.”

You quirked one eyebrow at him as Wanda finished pouring your double shot. “Good thing you’re not the boss of me, darling.”

He watched you pick it up, slowing bringing the glass to your lips. “Y/N, you’ll be throwing your guts up before the fireworks even start if you insist on drinking that. Please put it down.”

You smirked and said, “Why don’t you come over here and make me?,” before tossing the drink back. It burned your throat, but the satisfaction you got from watching the annoyed look on your boyfriend’s face was more than worth it.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” was all he said as he grabbed another beer bottle from the fridge behind the bar.

“I’ll be fine, Bucky, really. You don’t have to worry about me so much all the time.”

He returned to your side and tilted his head slightly to place an affectionate kiss to your tequila-flavored lips. “I can’t help it. I’ll always worry.”

“Because of the bond?”

“Maybe… or maybe I just care about you a whole lot, sweetheart.”

You smiled up at him, seeing the emotion behind his eyes that was brewing but hadn’t quite developed enough for him to express it verbally. You knew it wouldn’t be much longer though before he was confessing those three words. You looked forward to the day when you would find out just how lovely they sounded slipping from his delectable lips.

The fireworks display was overly extravagant, but you expected nothing less if Tony Stark was footing the bill. By the time they had started, you were six shots deep. Bucky was growing more and more exasperated with each glass of tequila that made its way down your throat. You knew you were being stubborn, but at the same time, Bucky was being a buzzkill. So, you kept taking more shots to spite him.

As everyone relaxed in lounge chairs under the dark sky that was sporadically lit with fireworks, you felt a sudden nausea overtake you. You tried to ignore it, to keep quiet and not let Bucky see that you were on the very precipice of vomiting your guts up just as he had warned you about. Another five minutes went by. It was too much. You stood up from your chair and ran inside to the bathroom in a rush.

For fifteen minutes straight, you clung to the toilet, sicker than you had been in a very long time. And Bucky was right there with you through all fifteen of them. He’d known what was going on as soon as you’d run inside. He was currently holding your hair up and rubbing soothing circles on your back with his metal palm. He’d missed all the fireworks just for you.

You were in love with him.

Day Nineteen of your fresh start, and you had already fallen hard. You believed very strongly deep down in your soul that this all-encompassing love you felt for this wonderful man had nothing to do with him being your soulmate. Sure, you were perfect for each other, fated to find one another. But to stay together, to build a solid trust, to care so deeply for one another, those were all conscious choices that you and Bucky made together every day. Having a soulmate wasn’t some sort of mystical involuntary commitment. It was work, and you thought your boyfriend was doing his job pretty damn well because you were absolutely smitten.


	14. Chapter 14

Hands, quicker than a lightning strike, softer than an infant’s head. Hair, cascading over lovely features, sun shimmering off the crown. Eyes, drawing him in like a hypnotizing illusion. A laugh, so pure and echoing and carefree. All of her swirling around continuously in his dreams. Bucky awakes in a sweat every morning, and this morning was no different.

He had been restless all night, yearning for her in his slumber, clinging to her in his dreams. It was as if every night that they had spent apart since that night together on her couch, Bucky could not feel peace.

It was Day Thirty and they hadn’t had sex yet. Bucky was fine with this, but it didn’t mean the desire wasn’t there. Each of these mornings, after endless hours of frustrated dreams about her, his eyes would fly open as his chest rose and fell with heavy pants, and his body would be so overcome by arousal that it ached. He couldn’t resist touching himself to the thought of her, hoping that all the sinful things he imagined would become a reality in due time.

And then he would send her his daily picture of a penis-shaped food item.

Bucky: You’re off work today, right?

Pickpocket: Fortunately.

Bucky: Be ready at 11?

Pickpocket: For what?

Bucky: None of your business

Pickpocket: Ummm? It is my business if I’m having to get dressed for it.

Bucky: You’re not dressed? Please, tell me more.

Pickpocket: Oh yeah, I’m just lounging around wearing nothing but my super sexy sweat pants and ratty T-shirt that I’ve owned for fifteen years.

Bucky: God, that’s hot.

Pickpocket: You’re weird.

Bucky: And I’m your soulmate, so that probably makes you weird too.

Pickpocket: Anyway, what the hell am I getting dressed for?

Bucky: It’s a surprise, sweetheart. Just wear something casual.

Bucky: Maybe those jean shorts that make your ass look amazing?

Pickpocket: My ass looks amazing in everything, so you’re gonna have to be more specific.

Bucky: Can’t argue with that. See you at 11!

Bucky borrowed Sam’s car for this date. He typically hated driving anything other than his bike, but there was a good chance that they’d end up with extra cargo that couldn’t be hauled on a motorcycle. Y/N seemed very suspicious when he pulled up outside her apartment in the little sedan.

“No biker Buck today?” she asked as she approached where he was standing leaned up against the passenger side of the car. She was wearing the exact shorts that Bucky had had in mind when he sent her that text. The shirt she wore was a simple maroon and cream striped tank top, and her hair hung down in perfect braids.

He pulled her into his arms the second she was within reach, and they spent a lingering moment together, lips crashing against each other, before Bucky finally opened the door for her and she slid in to the passenger seat.

The whole way there, she tried to guess where he was taking her. He wouldn’t budge though in giving away any hints. He wanted to see the look on her face when they pulled into the parking lot, wanted to be watching for her reaction so he could know for sure if this had been a good idea.

Fifteen minutes later, here they sat.

“We’re at… the animal shelter…?”

She didn’t look upset, only confused.

“I called ahead. They have a white Lab and Retriever and Shiba mix that’s three years old. He apparently looks just like—”

“Enzo?!”

She wore a broad grin now.

“Yup. You said you wanted a dog. I thought I might be able to help with that.”

Her smile fell.

“But what if I’m a terrible dog parent?”

“Sweetheart…” Bucky pulled her hand into his lap and rubbed it gently with his metal thumb, “Is that why you’ve never gotten a dog before? You don’t think you’ll be a good owner?”

She nodded her head.

“Taking care of a dog isn’t hard at all, I promise you. Steve and I took in a stray way back before the war. All they need is a bit of food, bit of water, and a lot of love. Dogs are incredibly loyal. You treat ‘em with kindness and they’ll think the sun revolves around ya.”

She kept her eyes cast down, staring at her lap, but Bucky could see the tears starting to well up. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good date idea.

“I just… I’ve never been a good person, Bucky. I’ve been a thief all my life. That’s all I’ve ever cared about until only recently. I don’t think I’m good enough to be a good dog parent. I don’t think I deserve to have a dog.”

“You really think that, that you’re not a good person? Sweetheart, you are the best person. You amaze me every day…. The stealing thing, well it was mostly out of your control… I want you to know that I don’t resent you for that anymore, not even in the slightest. You’re a great person who was just struggling to remain sane before she met her soulmate. And like I said, a dog’s not gonna care about all that. All it cares about is the amount of love you show it.”

Her smile finally returned, and she kissed him tenderly after wiping the small teardrops from her eyes.

Rainy, as the dog had already been named by the shelter, apparently loved to drool. His long tongue hung out and dripped fat globs of saliva all over the back seat of Sam’s car. The man was surely going to kill Bucky when he discovered the mess.

Y/N loved the name Rainy, said it was perfect because of the title of the movie in which Enzo starred. The shelter workers said that they named him that because he loved to run around like crazy when it was pouring down outside. It was surprising to them because all the other dogs hated the rain.

She was sitting in the backseat with him, petting his thick fur adamantly and cooing in his ear with all kinds of loving compliments. His tail thumped happily against the seat.

Bucky glanced in the rearview mirror to catch the joy on her face once more. She was peppering little kisses across Rainy’s forehead now. Bucky couldn’t help himself; he just blurted it out.

“I love you,” he announced as he watched her in the mirror.

Her head snapped up, and she met his eyes in the reflection. “I love you too, Bucky.”

“You do?”

“I do. Since that night with the tequila.”

“Huh, fell in love with me while you were staring into a toilet bowl. That’s romantic.”

She gave him a dirty look and then went back to petting Rainy.

“For the record, I was in love with you long before that.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I mean, I had started to fall in love with you before our fight. And then after we decided to start over, it barely took any time at all for you to have me wrapped around your finger yet again.”

“That was my scheme all along,” she confessed. “A carefully crafted masterplan. A heist for the heart of Bucky Barnes.”

“Well played, Pickpocket.”

After Rainy had been bathed and fed and given a new ball to fetch with and shown to his plush new bed in the corner of Y/N’s living room, the couple receded to Y/N’s bedroom, and all of those desperate fantasies of Bucky’s became mind-blowingly tangible.


	15. Chapter 15

Day Thirty-One

You were awake, had been for hours. Rainy had started whimpering in the early morning before the sun had even risen, and you had crawled out of bed ever so gently, walked him, fed him, and then returned to your spot at the side of your sleeping soulmate.

Bucky Barnes snored. Of course, you had learned this that first night together on the couch, but it was still amusing to note now as he was completely nude in your bed and making a noise with his nose that could rival a freight train.

When his eyes peeked open and he rolled towards you to plant a loving kiss on your lips, you pulled the thin sheets away from both of you to get a proper look at all that he had to offer. You mumbled an “I love you” and then grabbed your phone off the end table.

When you snapped a picture of his junk, Bucky let out a surprised yelp that was honestly the most humorous thing you’d ever heard.

“What was that for?”

“So that you don’t have to send me any more dick pics,” you answered him coyly.

“Could have at least warned me… got a shot of it in better lighting or something,” he grumbled.

Laughter erupted from your lips, as well as a couple of snorts. “This’ll do just fine, Barnes,” you assured him between giggles.

Day Forty

“Why does this dog eat so fucking much?” you asked as soon as Bucky answered his phone.

“He’s a big dog. What’d you expect, sweetheart?”

“I dunno, maybe not that he would have the same metabolism as my super-soldier soulmate. I mean seriously, Bucky, he eats nearly as much as you do.”

“Okay… I don’t eat that much… and I’m currently mid-mission right now, love. Could we possibly discuss Rainy’s eating habits at another time?”

“Oh, you’re on a mission?! Tell Tony I’ll just be taking a joyride in one of his suits, will ya?”

You heard his low chuckle. “For some reason, I don’t think that joke would go over well with him.”

You sighed. “Probably not. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Love you, Buck.”

“Love you too, Y/N.”

Day Fifty-Seven

“We really don’t have to do this if you’re that stressed about it,” Liv said as she walked next to you on your left. Rainy’s leash was held tightly in your right hand, and Jeff was on Liv’s other side. The four of you were headed toward a spacious park that Bucky had suggested. He would be waiting there with Steve and Sam, and you all planned to play Frisbee together and allow Rainy to get some much-needed exercise.

Bucky had scolded you a bit when he’d noticed that the dog had already gained a large gut since you adopted him. “What on earth have you been feeding him?” he asked you one evening when he’d showed up for dinner.

“I told you! He eats more than you do! I can’t stop him!”

And so, he had insisted on Frisbee at the park, inviting Steve and Sam because they’d both been stoked when they heard you got a dog. Then, he’d casually suggested you might invite your best friend Liv. You had contemplated it for a couple days before deciding there was no good reason that she shouldn’t meet Bucky now.

She already knew all about him since you’d spilled the beans that one night. And all of Bucky’s friends had met you, so it only seemed fair.

When your entourage reached the park, you easily spotted three very buff looking men already tossing a Frisbee around. You immediately let go of Rainy’s leash and watched on with delight as he sped toward Bucky and tackled him to the ground, giving the man’s face a thorough lick.

You made all the introductions, and the Frisbee game resumed with you, Liv, and Jeff trying not to look like unfit loaves in the presence of three Avengers.

Day Seventy-Five

“So,” your mother said as she cornered you in the back cooler at the bakery, “who’s this boy that’s been taking up all your free time, and when are you gonna bring him around to officially meet us?”

You groaned. “Mom, we’re just not there yet.”

“It seems serious though.”

“It is… look, if I tell you something, will you promise not to blab to the entire family?”

She put one hand on her hip and gave you a look that said, “I can keep a secret better than anyone you’ve ever known.”

“He’s my soulmate.”

She pulled you into one of her smothering motherly hugs, and you couldn’t help but smile happily in her arms.

Day Eighty

You narrowed your eyes. He narrowed his own even further. A mahogany dining table stretched out between the two of you, and a moderator sat at the side, attempting to finally dispel all this tension that you harbored for each other.

“Tony, just say what’s on your mind,” Bucky ordered.

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times. You know I can’t trust the woman, and that’s just how it’s always going to be.”

When Bucky wasn’t looking your way, you stuck your tongue out and gave Tony the finger.

“Well, that’s why we’re doing this. Y/N needs to know if there’s anything she can do to regain your trust, and if so, she’s perfectly willing to do it.”

Tony let out a very loud and extended sigh. “How about, just don’t steal from me, and maybe in about a decade, I’ll start to trust you again.”

Bucky let his head fall against the table in defeat.

Stark stood from his chair and exited down the hallway. Without really thinking, you stood up quickly to follow him. When the two of you were far enough away from the dining area to be out of Bucky’s earshot, you grabbed Tony’s arm to prevent him slipping away from you.

“Tony, I really am so sorry. Genuinely. And I need you to know that that man in there is the best and most important thing in my life. I was a fucked-up criminal before, but I can guarantee that I never have a single urge to steal a mere penny from anyone these days. I’m happy in my domestic life with, Buck, and he just wants his friends to get along with his girlfriend. All of them. I’m begging you to please put this behind us so that we can be at the same parties without causing any more dramatic scenes.”

“You really love him that much?”

“I really do.”

“And you’re really that sure that he’s your soulmate?”

“One hundred percent.”

Tony closed his eyes heavily, and you watched the look of reluctant acceptance fall across his face. “Fine.” He held his hand out for you to shake, clearly accustomed to making business deals. “Past is the past?”

“Past is the past,” you agreed as you shook his hand firmly.

Day One Hundred

“Did you get all the snacks while I was at work?” you called out from your bedroom as you changed into your comfy clothes.

“Sure did. Even bought a treat for Rainy,” Bucky answered from your couch. He was currently fiddling with the remote, trying to find a good movie on one of your multiple streaming services.

You finally emerged from your room and spotted your dopey dog happily gnawing on a new bone in his bed. You glanced at the coffee table but didn’t see a single movie-night snack in sight.

“Where are they?” you questioned.

“Where’s what?”

“The snacks that you supposedly bought?”

He didn’t even glance at you, eyes still focused on the browsing tabs for movies. “Oh, I put them up in the cabinet next to the fridge.”

It was strange. He usually just sat everything right there on the table since that was where it would end up anyway while you cuddled on the couch. Maybe he was making an effort to be tidier when he stayed over at your place.

“Okaaaaay,” you said with a suspicious tone as you headed for the kitchen and the cabinet he was referring to.

When you pulled the door open, a mountain of a hundred packets of regular M&Ms flew out at your face. Not a single packet of peanut M&Ms in sight.

You grabbed one of the packets of the disgusting treat and marched back to the living room. When you got there, Bucky was no longer fiddling with the TV. He sat stretched out across your small couch, arms crossed behind his head, and the smuggest of smirks painted on his face.

“I’m gonna kill you, Bucky Barnes,” you told him as you held up the offending snack and glared into the deep pools of his steel-blue eyes.

“I dare you to try, sweetheart,” he countered, and you were annoyed that he didn’t look the least bit scared.


End file.
